Green lung
Where mothers come to push Silver Crossed toddlers
As dog walkers walk their hairy dogs.
See it on a summery Sunday afternoon
Frisbees and football
Amidst picnicking people.
It’s like a Lowry print
Except the figures move.
Glad to be alive
Casting shadows on the grass.
Once, long ago
I laid in a snowfall there
And left my shape
Spread-eagled
Like a murder victim
Waiting for
Summer to return.
by Yorkshire Pudding June 14th 2007
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That's rather good, YP..
ReplyDeleteVery good, in fact. :)
ReplyDeleteI concur. You clever bugger.
ReplyDeleteThis is a stunning poem. I wish I knew more of the specific references... time to do research again.
ReplyDelete"Silver-crossed toddlers". Brilliant.
ReplyDeletevery nice poem jep
ReplyDeleteThank you dear readers... as all true poets do..
ReplyDeleteI shall take a bow and give thanks to you..
Thanks to Steve from fair Manchester town
And sweet Alkelda in her see-through gown
The muttering lady who loveth the horse
Not forgetting Jennyta of course!
And finallly dear Julie who cometh at last
As she moans to the poet - "You're going too fast!"
Is there no end to your talents, YP! (Add proof reading to the list!)
ReplyDeleteNot bad, but I bet you can't put a Rowntrees Fruit Pastille in your mouth without realising they are made from boiled cows' bones!!!
ReplyDeleteFoX
Hey! How did you find out about the see-through gown? Shocking, I say.
ReplyDelete